


When the sun comes up you know that I’ll be leaving

by thequietrecluse



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Based on a song, Bittersweet, Gen, Goodbyes, JiHan if you squint, Joshua has to leave, Joshua's POV, Kinda, OT13 Friendship love, Open to Interpretation, Vacation AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 11:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13810542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequietrecluse/pseuds/thequietrecluse
Summary: Joshua doesn't want to leave, but his suitcase is on his bed and he has to go.Alternatively, Joshua has to return to reality after meeting twelve of his best friends an ocean away from home.





	When the sun comes up you know that I’ll be leaving

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on one of my favorite songs, Before You Exit's "Suitcase." Feel free to play this song on loop, because I did while writing this.
> 
> Also, this was the fastest story I ever wrote (about two days) and I don't know why I'm torturing myself with angst when the next "Colored Hearts" story is angst as well 0_0

_ Everybody’s always giving me a reason _

_ Everybody’s always telling me to go _

_ None of them could ever feel the way I’m feeling _

 

It’s sitting there mocking him. Even looking at it is enough to put a damper on his mood. For the majority of his vacation, it’s been tucked away in his closet; out of sight, out of mind. He doesn’t want to see it lying open on his bed, yet here it is, open... empty... waiting.

He doesn’t want to go.

Slowly, mindlessly, he begins packing, tucking his carefully rolled up clothes and packing his personal belongings in a tiny, cramped suitcase. He doesn’t want to think about what he’s doing. It almost feels like he’s betraying the house, pulling every single piece of evidence of his stay from the room and into his suitcase. When he leaves, it will be like he was never there.

He doesn’t want to go, but he has to.

Joshua’s well aware that he can’t stay. He was only there for the summer. He has school, his parents have work, and he has to go back to reality. It’s just that he doesn’t want a reality without them in it.

“Joshua.”

He doesn’t respond, staring blankly down at his open suitcase. He lets his mom come up from behind him and wrap an arm gently around his shoulder. “You know we have to go.”

“I know,” he sighs, voice cracking slightly. “I just don’t want to.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she says gently, stroking his back. “I wish I didn’t have to take you from your friends. But we have to go home, Joshua. We’ll come back eventually.”

_ And when will that be,  _ he thinks bitterly. That’s the worst part about leaving. He knows they might never come back. This vacation had cost a lot more than his parents had been expecting; they might not have enough money to go back for years, and who knows what it’ll be like then. Maybe they’ll all have moved on and forgotten the shy LA boy who fascinated most of them with his English and entertained them with stories about the glamorous world across the ocean. By the time he returns, he might be nothing more than a distant memory. And that hurts more than his mom could ever understand.

He lets his mom slip out of the room, and he resumes packing.

 

_ You know I just can’t pull myself away _

_ The more I fight the more I wanna stay _

 

Their last get together is too somber.

There’s no loud, boisterous conversation. There are no games, no chasing each other around the sand or dunking each other in the ocean. It’s just muted conversations around a bonfire on the beach they’d promise to do when they first became friends. With all the hypothetical planning they did for this last bonfire on the beach, the one thing they overlooked was how  _ final  _ it would feel.

Joshua’s not the only one leaving, but it feels more like it is. He’ll be farther away, across a large ocean, on a different day. The others can come more often, with cheaper flights and cheaper bus fares and more opportunities. His leaving is the one that seems more permanent.

From his seat next to him, Jeonghan lays his head gently on his shoulder. Instinctively, Joshua leans back, resting his head on top of his best friend’s. Their hands tangle together, and after a moment, Jeonghan chuckles. “Remember when all the skinship freaked you out?”

Joshua laughs quietly. “Can you blame me? For a country more conservative than the US, you guys sure are affectionate.”

On his other side, Soonyoung jumps in. “Well, now you’re one of us, so you can go back home and freak all of your friends back home out.”

Joshua’s smile falters slightly at the mention of  _ home, _ but he pushes it down and continues. “I doubt it. Knowing them, they’ll try to one-up you and hang all over me. I don’t need that in my life.”

Soonyoung cackles, though he’s quickly muffled by Jihoon elbowing him hard enough to make him fall backward, making everyone laugh.

When they all calm down, the youngest, Chan, pipes up. “Oh, hyung, can we give them the gift now?” He’s not talking to Joshua, but to Seungcheol, the de facto leader of the mismatched group from three different countries. 

Seungcheol ruffles the youngest’s head. “Go ahead. I know you’ve been excited about this since the beginning.”

“What are you talking about?” Hansol asks. Everyone except for the oldest and the youngest are wearing matching looks of confusion and curiosity. 

Chan digs eagerly through his bag for a few long moments before letting out a victorious shriek and pulling out a long, thin box. Turning back to the others, who have gathered around him, Chan gives them all an ecstatic look before opening the box.

Inside are thirteen matching silver rings of various sizes, but with the same insignia. An elongated x divides the ring into four quadrants, each bearing a letter or symbol: the bottom three hold the letters S, V, and T, while the top holds an almost completed triangle, a logo that Mingyu had designed for them halfway through the summer.

Joshua has to hold back his tears. 

Seungkwan is one of the ones who doesn’t. His loud cries set off a chain reaction, and it’s not long until everyone is at least teary-eyed, leaning on each other for support and comfort. The box is lying unharmed in the sand, rings forgotten in favor of the meaning behind it. Vernon’s buried in Joshua’s chest as if he’s trying to dig his way into his hyung’s heart. Minghao’s crying into Mingyu’s shoulder, despite the fact that only yesterday the two were fighting. Junhui’s wrapped around Wonwoo. Jihoon’s trying his best to comfort Seungcheol and Seungkwan, ignoring the tears streaming down his own cheeks. Jeonghan’s cuddling Chan, who for once seems okay with the babying. Seokmin and Soonyoung are huddled into each other’s shoulders, clearly staining each other’s clothes with their tears.

It takes a long time before any of them even begin to calm down. Napkins are passed around because no one thought to bring tissues, and there are suspicious dark spots on everyone’s shirts. When Chan hands each person their ring, some more napkins are needed.

Joshua admires his ring in the light of the bonfire, turning it over to see it gleam. Seungcheol, in an effort to lighten the mood, starts explaining how he managed to find everyone’s ring sizes, despite the fact that he never asked anyone for their ring size. It’s a funny story, but Joshua can’t bring himself to laugh. 

When he first arrived in Korea, he hadn’t expected to make so many close friends. Busan was a big place, and he felt like a tourist in his own motherland, too American to be Korean and too Korean to be American. He didn’t know where he fits in either country. Then he met Seungcheol, who was trying to find a friend in the city. His Daegu accent threw Joshua off, but the older had laughed it off and started a conversation with him anyway. They got along so well despite the fact that they were near strangers that Seungcheol had invited him to meet Jihoon. When they got there, they found that Jihoon had brought one of his friends, Soonyoung, and it just snowballed from there. Joshua watched as his new friends increased in size from three to five to ten to twelve rambunctious boys meeting at the same place every day and going on different adventures. One day they wander around the city trying every affordable restaurant they can find. Another day, Junhui and Minghao manage to cook them all a Chinese dinner, with dishes from both of their regions (there had almost been a fire, but Wonwoo had managed to save Jihoon’s house from burning down.) The day after that, Mingyu cooks them all a fantastic traditional Korean dinner that they still talk about weeks later.

Above all, though, there are the talks. Regardless of what happened that day, that night they’ll gather in Jihoon’s house, sit in a circle, and just talk. They talk about anything and everything. Some days it’s just light-hearted jokes and plans for tomorrow, but most days they talk about deep meaningful topics. Joshua tells them about his loneliness. Seungkwan talks about being bullied because of his looks. Jihoon talks about the pressure he feels because of his music. Vernon talks about how people judge him because he looks Caucasian though he’s lived in Korea his entire life. Sometimes there are tears, sometimes there are hugs, but there’s always a sense of camaraderie. It’s nothing like Joshua has ever experienced in his life.

Glancing down at his ring, he can’t help but wonder how long it will last.

 

_ And now I just can’t find the words to say _

_ So I wish that I could take you in my suitcase _

 

Joshua’s the first one to leave.

It’s predictable, really: he’s spent almost three months here. Between Junhui, Minghao and him, he’s been here the longest. Of course, he would be the one to leave first.

He leaves for the airport at dawn, so he’s surprised when his mom tells him the others are at the door. “They wanted to say goodbye,” she says, voice wavering slightly.

Joshua just nods, unable to trust his voice, and moves past her to the front door, where all twelve of them are standing, wide awake. Even Jihoon, who he never remembers waking up before noon, is there, eyes focused and coherent.

“Joshua,” Jeonghan begins, his voice already wavering. Joshua’s throat feels tight. “We just wanted to say goodbye.”

It takes all of his strength to not break down, but Joshua manages it, nodding before stepping forward to wrap his arms around Jeonghan. Jeonghan’s arms wrap tightly around his stomach in return, as if he’s afraid Joshua will dissipate in front of his eyes.

Joshua knows that it’s not necessarily the end: he has their Kakao, they have a group chat, they can still talk. But it won’t be the same. There won’t be any hugs, no over-the-top skinship which the entire group naturally does. There won’t be the comforting sound of their voices talking over each other as they decide where to go or what to eat. They won’t even be living in the same day together; the world’s robbed them of even that. Joshua will have to live seventeen hours behind the rest of his friends: there’s only one ocean separating them, but they still live so far apart.

He takes his time hugging each and every one of them, committing the feel and smell of their bodies to memory. There’s not a physical souvenir on earth that can replace what Joshua’s found, so he has to make do. Outside of memories, this is the only thing Joshua can take back with him to LA. If he feels tears dampening his shirt, he doesn’t mention it. It’s only one more thing Joshua can hold onto.

Finally, though, he has to go. He still doesn’t want to, but there’s nothing he can do. Slowly, he lets go of Junhui and gives his friends a watery smile. Tears haven’t fallen yet, but Joshua’s certain they will when he gets on the plane.

“Until we meet again,” Jihoon says solemnly.

Joshua swallows down the tears. “Seventeen, fighting!” He says, in a voice far stronger than he feels.

“Fighting!” The twelve boys cheer. It’s enough to make Joshua smile even wider.  _ Thank you,  _ he thinks, but it’s not enough. It doesn’t come close to how grateful he feels for this summer, despite how painful this goodbye feels, but it’s the closest phrase he can think of. There’s no other phrase in the English or Korean language that can fully encapsulate what he feels, but he wishes there was. He wishes he could send them his feelings, just so they can understand. But he can’t, so he makes do with a deep bow and a soft “고맙다” he gets into the taxi with his family and watches his best friends wave as the taxi drives away.

 

_ When the last few hours always feel like seconds _

_ And the time just keeps on crashing into you. _

_ When I close the door for one last time, _

_ Will the days we had get left behind? _

**Author's Note:**

> My heart broke when I looked up the time difference between Busan and LA and it was actually 17 hours :(
> 
> Fun fact: This was actually going to be Minshua (because "Suitcase" is a romantic sad song) but I realized it fit better as a platonic OT13 fic. 
> 
> twitter: @thequietrecluse


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